Archer’s leg, nudging for attention. Archer absently rubs the dog behind the ears, then stops.
A sign is hanging from around Patch’s neck. I’m at an angle where I can’t read it, but the cardboard sign is looped with a frayed string, the words written in black ink.
Archer takes hold of the sign and reads it. His expression doesn’t change, but he studies the sign for a minute, as if trying to make sense of it.
Then he looks up, right at Kelsey. She’s standing by the door, and this time her lovely face and rimless glasses can’t hide the nervousness in her expression.
She and Archer look at each other for a long time. She bites her lip. Tension twists through the air.
“Yes,” he says.
She blinks. Then a radiant smile breaks over her face, lighting her with happiness. She moves toward him, and he gets up to hurry over to her, and then they’re in each other’s arms and kissing with such passion that I don’t know whether to clap in admiration or give them some privacy.
Dean takes hold of Patch’s collar, turning the dog toward us. The cardboard sign around his neck reads:
Chapter 42
Dean
July 1
“Hurry, man, we’re going to be late.” With an impatient frown, Archer holds the gray necktie out to me.
“We’re not going to be late.” I get behind him and start to knot the tie around his neck, turning him toward the full-length mirror in his and Kelsey’s bedroom.
“Have you seen Kelsey yet?” he asks, looking at me in the mirror.
“No, she’s up at the Butterfly House with Liv and Bella.”
I give the tie a final pull and step back. We’re both wearing gray suits and ties, and I have a flashback to the days when our mother would dress us up in suits when we were kids getting dragged along to the governor’s fancy dinners. Back then, I’d never have imagined we would be here now.
I clap a hand on my brother’s shoulder. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” He straightens his tie and slants me a glance. “Why?”
“I mean, you’re not nervous?”
He shakes his head. “I’m too happy and relieved to be nervous.” He holds out his arms. “Can you put the cufflinks in?”
I pick up the links from the dresser and start fastening them to his cuffs.
“So, uh, I wanted to tell you I’m glad you’re marrying her,” I remark, concentrating on the task.
“I’m glad she’s marrying me.”
“You’re really good for her.” I fasten the second cufflink. “I’m glad you’re here, too. In Mirror Lake. I’ve really…uh, appreciated having you around. Everything you’ve done.”
Faint surprise flashes in his eyes. “No problem.”
Before we both get embarrassed, I step back and look him over. “I guess she can’t get out of it now, huh?”
“No way will I let her.”
Archer follows me out to the kitchen, where Nicholas is at the table, eating a peanut-butter sandwich and drinking a glass of chocolate milk. His necktie is already half undone, and there’s a smear of jam on the lapel of his suit.
“Little man, you gotta look good for a wedding.” Archer reaches out to straighten Nicholas’s tie. “Neat and stuff.”
“It’s too tight.” Nicholas squirms and pulls at his collar. “Are we leaving yet?”
“Do you remember what you’re supposed to do?” I grab a napkin to wipe the jam off his lapel.
Nicholas looks at the ceiling and sighs gustily. “Carry the pillow, walk down the aisle, do not let the rings fall off, and hand them to Uncle Archer when the guy says something about rings.”
“Awesome.” Archer gives Nicholas a high-five. “You got this.”
We go out to the driveway and pile into Archer’s truck. Patch is waiting in the backseat, freshly washed and groomed. We drive to Wizard’s Park, where Allie worked magic to set up the wedding site—glowing lanterns line an aisle strewn with flower petals, leading to an arched trellis decorated with white lights.
A chorus of chatter rises in the air from the gathered guests—Archer and Kelsey’s friends, grad students, fellow professors, garage mechanics, Wonderland café employees, and plenty of children.
I take Nicholas behind the line of trees that separates the staging area from the guests. My heart does a crazy spin at the sight of Liv—a vision of loveliness in a pale blue dress, her short hair enhancing the shape of her eyes and high cheekbones. She turns and sees me approaching, her smile hitting me right in the middle of the chest.
“Hello, my beauty.” I stop in front of her, tracking my gaze over her face. “I’d kiss you, but